


To Dream Together

by furiosity



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Future Fic, Hot Springs & Onsen, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiosity/pseuds/furiosity
Summary: Indou Kaoru's had a crush on Mizuki Hisahito since forever.  He wasn't going to do anything about it, but life has other plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intimacies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intimacies/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I hope that you enjoy this story. ^_^
> 
> Most elements of Kaoru's past are drawn directly from 振り向くな君は, which is the prequel manga to DAYS. It's technically not a part of this tag on AO3, so I hope that's okay. Many thanks to A for the beta.

"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality." - Yoko Ono

It's Sakuragi versus Seiseki again, and Indou Kaoru knows he's dreaming.

He's lounging against a wall and watching his younger self warm up with Shuuji. The club room door bangs open and Nacchan backs out into the afternoon sun, dragging a cooler along the sand. Shuuji and three of the upperclassmen run over to help her, but young Kaoru doesn't. He's staring at the school-side entrance to the pitch, where the Seiseki team has just started to arrive.

Kaoru's current self — a shadow no one can see — smiles. This was the moment he saw Mizuki for the first time. He'd heard of Mizuki — the kid who went from deadweight to team anchor through willpower and practice — but no one had told Kaoru he was hot. The quiet air about him, those precise movements, the shape of his mouth, the piercing dark eyes — Kaoru's hands turned into fists and his mouth ran dry. Even now, his shadow-fingers curl in; he still remembers.

Seiseki destroyed them that day, and Kaoru is still not sure that his runaway crush on Mizuki wasn't the main reason for it.

Since childhood, soccer was his only way of connecting with others. Twenty-two players, one pitch, ninety minutes. He's forged more bonds that way than most people ever would through karaoke parties. But the way his eyes kept travelling to Mizuki, the way his chest felt impossibly full and hollow at the same time, the way his whole body craved Mizuki's attention — that had never happened before, and Kaoru didn't know what to do with himself.

Seiseki destroys Sakuragi again in this dream, of course. When it's Kaoru's turn to shake Mizuki's hand, shadow Kaoru _shifts_ into his younger self. Because he can. Because he wants to look into Mizuki's eyes for the first time again. Because even now, five years and some months to the day, his attraction to Mizuki hasn't faded.

Mizuki took off his black gloves for the handshakes, so his hand is hot but not sweaty. "Good game," he says. "Your passes go _whoosh_. It's nice."

Now it's time for young Kaoru to be a complete asshole — because he's sixteen years old and has no idea how to talk to a guy who makes him tremble from the inside. He _especially_ doesn't know how to take a compliment from a guy like that, even if the compliment sounds like something a fourth grader would say.

What was it that he's supposed to say now? _"I think that's just the inside of your head, ‘cause it's so empty."_

Only he doesn't say that. It's his dream. He can say whatever he wants. He can be an adult. He can say exactly what he _wanted_ to say that day: what he still wishes he had said.

"Hey, thanks," he says, shaking Mizuki's hand, with feeling. "I wanna try throwing some passes your way one of these days." He glances to Shuuji, who's kind of listening in and also kind of glaring at them. "If Shuuji's okay with it."

Mizuki's eyes light up. "Yeah!"

Then everything changes, and Kaoru sees a future in stop-motion.

Their teams are rivals, but they become friends. When they exchange phone numbers, it's not to keep tabs on each other, it's so they can make plans to hang out.

Halfway through their third year in high school, Kaoru kisses Mizuki in a damp side street next to a video game arcade. The drizzle is cold, but Mizuki's hands are warm on Kaoru's face.

"Took you long enough," Mizuki mutters, after.

A year into their professional careers, they move in together and start talking about going public with their relationship.

One night, Kaoru wants a handjob while Mizuki wears his black gloves. It escalates, and the next day, when they play against each other, they both get so flustered that Mizuki gets yelled at on camera and Kaoru gets subbed out. After that, soccer talk is not allowed anywhere near their bed, and neither are Mizuki's gloves.

They're sitting in a Brazilian steakhouse when Mizuki proposes. Kaoru found the rings weeks ago while rooting around in Mizuki's go bag for a knee brace, but it still takes him by surprise. As he opens his mouth to give Mizuki his completely unsurprising answer, a police siren begins to wail outside. Kaoru waits for the car to pass, but the siren keeps going, shrill and accusing: _wake up wake up wake up_.

Kaoru wakes up. The siren was just his phone, strategically placed on top of his bedroom dresser so he has no choice but to get up to shut off the alarm.

He can still see a gaudy chandelier's light glancing off Mizuki's proffered engagement ring, smell the roast corn on his half-empty plate, hear a woman's pleasant, throaty laughter a few tables over. He knew he was dreaming, but now all he wants is to fall back asleep. Maybe the dream will wait for him. He wants to know what happens next.

The alarm's sound intensifies. If Kaoru lets it go on much longer, his asshole neighbour's going to complain to the landlady again.

Sighing, he kicks off the covers and ambles to the dresser, his heart full of desolate, you-can't-go-home-again nostalgia for the life he had in his dream. It stays with Kaoru as he gets dressed, scarfs down a convenience store sandwich past its sell-by date, throws some clothes into his carry-on suitcase, runs downstairs, and hails a taxi.

"Haneda domestic terminal," he tells the white-gloved driver and fastens his seat belt.

Back in the summer, on a rest day, he was strolling through a shopping arcade near his building when an old guy in a pop-up lottery stand called out to him to try his luck with the numbers. Kaoru had a good feeling about it, so he paid the man, stuck his hand inside a large cardboard box, and drew out the winning ticket: a Christmas trip for two to a fancy inn at the Yufuin hot spring resort.

Kaoru was going to make Shuuji go with him, but Shuuji went off to train in Brazil as soon as the season ended, and by then everyone else already had Christmas plans. Kaoru thought about cancelling, but he remembered the good feeling he had before buying the lottery ticket and decided to go on the trip anyway.

♦

Yufuin is a lot less crowded than nearby Beppu, but it's no less of a tourist trap. Kaoru's inn is in a quiet side street a few blocks east of the main drag, and his room faces the mountainside. The trip's all-expenses-paid, including meals — served at set times in the inn's dining room — so he won't even have to leave the building if he doesn't want to. Trouble is, Kaoru's not sure what he wants. He came here because he had a good feeling about it, but so far it's only reminded him how much he hates to be alone. Resort towns aren't the best places to meet new people, either — it's all couples and families.

He whiles away the hour until dinner time channel-surfing and nibbling on the complimentary tea cakes. The room's too big for him alone, so he amuses himself by rolling around on the floor — something he can't do in his shoebox of an apartment.

In the dining room, he's shown to a table assigned to all the guests in his wing of the inn. So far, there's just one guy at the table, dressed in a black yukata patterned with double white stripes. Young, athletic. No rings on his fingers and no companions in sight. Maybe Kaoru can make a new friend here after all. He sits down on the cushion across from the man and readies an easy grin.

It's Mizuki. Kaoru hasn't seen him since the playoffs, and even that was from a distance. He looks good.

Kaoru keeps grinning.

"What the hell?" he says by way of greeting. His hands want to shake, so he sticks them under the table.

Mizuki frowns with disapproval. "What are you doing?"

"Winning," Kaoru offers. He meant to say _"I won a Christmas trip to this inn"_ , but Mizuki is here, and Mizuki's superpower is making Kaoru lose his shit.

Mizuki shakes his head. "Dumbass."

Kaoru readies a spectacularly childish retort, but an image from this morning's dream flashes into his mind's eye: he and Mizuki at a restaurant, about to get engaged, all because Kaoru didn't talk any smack when it counted.

"I mean I won a trip to this place," Kaoru clarifies. "So I'm here. What are _you_ doing here?"

Mizuki looks taken aback. "I come here every year," he says. "Family thing."

Kaoru looks around. "So your folks are here too?"

Mizuki frowns, says nothing, and then their food arrives.

For the next hour, as the set course items are served in ceremonious order, Kaoru doesn't even know what he's eating half the time. He keeps sneaking looks at Mizuki, who looks so fucking elegant in his yukata, you'd think he was some kind of young lord travelling incognito. How is it even possible that Kaoru can be here like this?

What if it's fate? He came here based on a good feeling, nothing else. He had nothing to lose by not going, but he went anyway. Now here he is eating dinner with Mizuki, and they're not even arguing about anything. Well, they're not talking at all, but that's beside the point.

The point is that Kaoru's here by some kind of fucking miracle. It's like the time he ran into Shuuji on that train and followed him on a whim. Then it turned out Shuuji was the one guy he'd made the trip to Tokyo for: Narukami Ryuu's son, his ultimate partner on the field.

Isn't this basically the same thing? And since he already has the best partner in Shuuji, Mizuki being here must mean that he and Kaoru are connected in another way. Maybe even in the way that Kaoru has always wanted them to be connected.

Mizuki finishes eating first and excuses himself. After Kaoru's done, he takes his time walking past the guest rooms in his wing of the inn, trying to figure out which room is Mizuki's. He learns nothing, except that he's now sure of what he wants to do on this getaway, and that's to share some drinks with Mizuki in the hot spring. At least.

As soon as he's back in his own room, he dials Shuuji's mobile. "Mizuki's here."

"In your bed?"

"Asshole. At my inn."

"Of course he is," Shuuji says. "I knew he would be; that's why I booked the place."

Kaoru blinks. "You what?"

Shuuji sighs. "Did you really think you happened to win a Christmas trip from some shady old guy? That was someone from my uncle's shogi society. They all love me, so he agreed to help."

"So you set this whole thing up? _That's_ why you fucked off to Brazil barely before playoffs were over?"

"Merry Christmas?"

"Don't 'Merry Christmas' me; what the hell am I supposed to do now? I feel like some kind of creepy stalker even though you're the stalker! How did you even know Mizuki came here every year?"

"So you two have talked already? Nice progress."

"Nice progress my hairy ass, Shuuji, I'm gonna kill you when you come home."

"Maybe I'll stay in Brazil then. It's nice and warm here, you know. Keep me updated!"

Shuuji hangs up, and Kaoru stares at the smartphone screen.

 _Fuck._ There he was, getting carried away thinking about fate, and it was just Shuuji.

Either way, he still wants to make drinks in the hot spring happen.

At least.

♦

"Come over to my room tonight," Kaoru says over breakfast. "We'll order drinks and chill in the hot spring. I have a private outdoor bath."

Mizuki looks taken aback. "Why? 

"Does there have to be a reason? You're here, I'm here, we might as well hang out."

"You don't even like me."

"What the hell gave you that idea?" Kaoru asks, feeling offended even though he knows _exactly_ why Mizuki thinks that. Kaoru worked very hard to pretend he didn't like him.

Mizuki shrugs. "We never hit it off."

"We were kids. I like you just fine." _I like you a lot._

"OK."

Kaoru gulps too-hot coffee and wonders how to remind Mizuki that he hasn't responded to the invitation yet. 

Mizuki murmurs a _thank you for the food_ and gets up. He's almost turned away to leave when he stops to look back at Kaoru. Their eyes meet for the first time since last night, and Kaoru's sure that Mizuki can see right to the depths of his soul.

"I'm going shopping," Mizuki says. "Souvenirs."

Kaoru nods, not sure why Mizuki's decided to bestow this detail upon him.

Mizuki nods, too. "I'll meet you out front."

And that's how Kaoru ends up spending four hours trailing from shop to overpriced shop, each of them playing Back Number's _Christmas Song_ practically on loop. He would hate this on any other day, but today he's getting to look at Mizuki as much as he wants without it being super weird. Mizuki's too busy picking out just the right boxes of tea cakes, rice crackers, and mini cream puffs for what seems like his entire extended family.

They return to the inn just in time for lunch, and by this time they're more or less back to the frenemy rapport that they had in high school. Mizuki's still not talking much, but he looks more relaxed than before.

"I have to go somewhere," he says as lunch wraps up. It's pretty clear that this time, Kaoru is not invited: Mizuki's not looking at him at all and he seems anxious to leave.

"Sure," Kaoru says. "Not like I'll miss you or anything."

"Drinks tonight," Mizuki says as he gets up. "After dinner, right? I'll go."

Kaoru stares after him. He wants to know where Mizuki is going. He wants to know what's on his mind.

_Are we connecting? Am I reaching you?_

♦

Kaoru pours Mizuki another cup of warm junmai-shu and settles back against the rocks ringing the outdoor bath.

The air is crisp and dry, but the water is perfect, and his belly is pleasantly full. The only thing that could have made tonight better would have been watching Mizuki get into the water, but he got to shower before Kaoru, guest privileges and all.

He did seem to stare as Kaoru got in the hot spring with him, but Kaoru's been trying not to think about that. He keeps flashing back to Mizuki's gaze on his body — direct, unflinching, as though sizing him up.

_Did you like what you saw?_

Kaoru gazes up at the cloudy night sky and grits his teeth with the urge to ask just that.

"This is the life," Kaoru says instead.

"Maybe next year I'll ask for a room with an outdoor bath," Mizuki says as he refills Kaoru's cup. "We're almost out of sake."

"I'll go order more."

Kaoru gets out of the water, and the air turns biting-cold in an instant. He towels off hastily, runs back to the room, where a space heater's been hard at work all evening, and calls the front desk for more of the same.

As he gets back into the hot spring, he meets Mizuki's eyes. Mizuki's definitely staring, and he doesn't seem to mind that Kaoru noticed. Kaoru bites his lip and wades back in. Part of him wants to say something deliberately lewd, just to see if they understand each other. _Are you looking at me the way I look at you?_

"I come here every year 'cause we used to come with my grandpa, before he died," Mizuki says after the sake arrives.

"Your parents don't come with you?"

"They go in the summer. That's when we usually went, but I can't do that because of scheduling." Mizuki's jaw tightens. "Grandpa hated soccer, and I'm giving him a reason to hate it more."

"I hardly ever even visit my parents' grave, let alone their favorite vacation spots, and I don't think they hate me. Your grandpa's probably happy you're taking the time."

"Your parents--?" Mizuki lowers his cup. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I never knew them," Kaoru tells him. Why did he even bring this up? People always get so awkward about it. "I was a baby when they died. Car accident. My grandparents tried to raise me, but I was a bad kid until Shuuji's old man brought the team he was coaching to our town for a training camp. That was when I started playing soccer." Mizuki's really _looking_ at him now, and to this day Kaoru craves his attention so bad it makes him ache, so he ends up telling him more or less his whole life story. Except for the parts where he wants to date Mizuki.

By the time he's done, the sake's all gone again, and he's starting to feel like he's overheating. "Sorry," he says with a grin. "You were telling me about your grandpa and I ended up talking your ear off. I'm gonna go watch some TV."

Mizuki joins him soon after, back in his stylish as fuck yukata and looking every inch a young lord as he relaxes on the cushions next to Kaoru, one elbow on the tea table. His yukata's loose, and if Kaoru cranes his neck just so, he can catch a glimpse of Mizuki's inner thigh. For some reason that turns him on more than all that staring Mizuki was doing.

He can't believe he's this close to Mizuki. What if this isn't even real? Maybe the alarm clock waking him up and the trip to Yufuin were still all part of the dream, but this time Kaoru forgot he was dreaming.

"Hey, Mizuki," he murmurs.

Mizuki looks at him. "Hm?"

"Want to make out?"

Mizuki blinks. "Yeah."

Kaoru sits up straight. "What?"

"What?" Mizuki returns, brow furrowing. "Is that weird?"

He reaches for the remote in Kaoru's hand and switches off the TV. The room goes murky-dark. Mizuki sits up to kneel and leans in, close enough that Kaoru can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Are you drunk, Mizuki?"

Mizuki's lips press to Kaoru's jaw. "A little tipsy," he murmurs against Kaoru's skin. The first kiss is slow, hesitant — Kaoru's kissed a lot of people, but none that he wanted to kiss as much as he wants to kiss Mizuki. He strokes Mizuki's cheek with his thumb as he deepens the kiss, his tongue finding Mizuki's. There's a satisfying, soul-deep _click_ deep in him, like a shin guard sliding into place just right.

Mizuki exhales sharply, moving in closer, pushing Kaoru until his back hits the tatami and Mizuki's on top of him on all fours, his kisses getting sloppier. Kaoru needs him closer, so he reaches up to pull Mizuki all the way down on top of himself. Mizuki's yukata has fallen open all the way, and he isn't wearing any underwear. Kaoru gives his own belt a tug, and Mizuki's hands do the rest. They lie side by side, Mizuki a little on top, chests together, legs tangled, their kisses slower, hands touching anywhere they can reach. Kaoru's hard, and it's taking all his self-control to keep his hips from moving against Mizuki's soft inner thigh.

Sex is something he knows. This is different. He's not just responding to urges; he craves Mizuki's closeness like he needs to breathe. It's a connection unlike any other, and he wishes he could do this all night, kissing Mizuki, caressing his back, soaking up the warmth of his body. He wants to make Mizuki come, too, wants to make him wet, make him moan and shudder and writhe. He can't decide which he wants more.

Mizuki breaks the kiss and stares into Kaoru's eyes, his breathing harsh. "Closer," he sighs, pressing his hips down, sending a jolt through Kaoru's groin as his cock pushes against Mizuki's thigh. Mizuki's dick rubs against Kaoru's leg and Mizuki gives a muffled moan. Kaoru closes his legs, trapping Mizuki's cock between them. Mizuki's hips jolt backwards, then in again. "Do you hate it?" he breathes into Kaoru's mouth. "I— fuck, I want to—"

Kaoru tightens his quads. "Do it," he whispers, stroking Mizuki's neck, his other hand grasping Mizuki's ass tightly. "Fuck me like this." How could he hate it? He's never imagined Mizuki like this, needy and wanton. In his fantasies, Kaoru is always the one to lose his shit.

Mizuki rolls his hips back and forth, his dick barely moving between Kaoru's thighs, so Kaoru spits in his hand, opens his legs, reaches down, and jerks him off until Mizuki's wet and panting harshly: "Indou—"

"Shh." Kaoru lets him slide back in again, and Mizuki comes within seconds, getting it all over Kaoru's legs and yukata. He stays close to Kaoru for a long time after his hips stop moving and his breathing steadies, but he won't meet Kaoru's eyes. Kaoru doesn't ask why, though he wants to know.

"You'll get sticky," Mizuki says finally, working his way out of Kaoru's arms.  
He fetches a damp towel from the bathroom and starts to wipe Kaoru's thighs down without a word. Kaoru's embarrassed: it feels too intimate, like they're closer than they are. He tugs the towel away from Mizuki. "You don't have to," he says.

Indou goes into the shower room, washes up and gives his yukata a rinse. The inn staff is probably used to cleaning all sorts of stuff off these things, but he feels weird about it. He puts on a white bathrobe and heads back into the room, where Mizuki's sprawled out on the floor, yukata still undone, looking ready for either sleep or round two. Kaoru goes to find out which.

Soon, they're back to kissing, this time with less urgency, rolling along the tatami with now Mizuki, now Kaoru on top. Kaoru could do this all night, but then Mizuki pulls away suddenly and looks at him with a very serious expression. When he speaks, his tone is better suited to a world peace summit than what he says.

"I want you to come."

"Then make me," Kaoru tells him, his heartbeat picking up.

Mizuki bites his lower lip. Then he leans in and bites Kaoru's. He tugs on it with his teeth, gentler than Kaoru wants him to be, and Kaoru reaches up with both hands to pull Mizuki down again and kiss him. Mizuki rolls back to pull Kaoru on top of himself and throws his open yukata back with an impatient hand.

When Mizuki grips Kaoru's cock, it's clear this isn't his first rodeo. Kaoru would feel jealous, but he's too busy losing his shit. It's like Mizuki knows how tight to make his fist and how fast to go to push Kaoru. His teeth sink softly into Mizuki's shoulder as he comes, drawing a short, delighted laugh Kaoru barely hears.

Afterwards, Kaoru cleans himself up with the towel Mizuki used on him earlier, wondering what's next.

"I should go back to my room," Mizuki mutters, not moving.

"Sleep here," Kaoru says, trying to sound casual — probably failing, but Mizuki nods, and that's all that matters.

The futon's a single and the pillow's too small, but Mizuki's using Kaoru's shoulder instead. His hair smells like the inn's complimentary floral shampoo.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Kaoru whispers. "I wish I'd been nicer to you. Could've done this sooner."

Mizuki makes an indistinct noise that Kaoru takes to mean "shut up and let me sleep", so he does.

In the morning, Mizuki is gone. He's not at breakfast, and the inn employees would probably refuse to tell him anything, so he doesn't bother asking. There are no messages or missed calls on Kaoru's phone, either.

 _I came on too strong._ That's all Kaoru can think of. Mizuki probably just wanted to have some fun together, and Kaoru hit him with _remember the day we met_ and stuff. If someone Kaoru wasn't all that crazy about said that to him, he'd run for the hills too.

It hurts, but who was he trying to kid? He just isn't good with people, never has been since he was a brat. Soccer's the only way he can connect with others. At least he won't see Mizuki again until whenever they next play Kashima, so he'll have time to get over this.

He'll pretend it never happened.

That's easy.

♦

"So how did it go?" Shuuji asks.

Kaoru scoops the clothes out of his suitcase and dumps them in the laundry basket. "How did what go?"

"Your romantic mountain getaway."

"Nothing happened." His voice doesn't waver even a little.

The doorbell rings. "Who the hell could it be at this hour? Hang on, Shuuji."

He opens the door to Mizuki, bearing a bouquet of roses and a heavy-looking convenience store bag. "Hey," Mizuki says.

"I'm gonna call you back," Kaoru says into the phone.

"Was that Mizuki's voice I just—?"

_Click._

"Can I come in?" Mizuki asks.

Kaoru moves out of the way to let him enter, kind of on autopilot. "What are you doing here?"

"What kind of question is that? I'm your boyfriend."

Kaoru's phone slips out of his hand, but he catches it before it falls. "You are?"

Mizuki proffers the bouquet. "For you."

Kaoru pulls him in with both arms around his waist and kisses his mouth. Mizuki puts one hand on his chest, right where Kaoru's heart is trying to make a run for it, and everything smells like fresh roses. It feels like a hard-won match: relief and adrenaline, exhaustion and arousal all at once. Mizuki's eyes are closed and his eyelashes are even longer than Kaoru imagined in the fluorescent light above his doorway.

After he's had his fill — for the moment, anyway — Kaoru takes the roses and tugs the convenience store bag out of Mizuki's other hand. "Come on in."

The bag contains a six-pack of beer, still cold, and a jumbo pack of pretzels.

"Why were you surprised to see me?" Mizuki asks, popping his beer can open.

"For one thing, how do you even know where I live?"

Mizuki looks bemused. "You invited me to your housewarming party last year."

"Oh, and you were in Germany."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, the other night you left without saying anything; I figured you were a goner. At least send a text or something, jeez."

"I don't bring my phone to Yufuin. Grandpa hated those, too. I left a note with the front desk," Mizuki says. "Told them to give it to you if you asked."

"I, uh, didn't ask. Why didn't you just write me a note?"

"Couldn't find anything to write with in your room. Only paper. Then I had to pack quickly and rush to catch my plane."

"What did your note say?"

"That I'd see you tonight."

Kaoru smiles. "You have something in mind or are we just drinking beer?"

Mizuki returns a very small grin. "How about a tour of your place, since I missed the housewarming? Let's start with where the bed is."

Kaoru downs the rest of his beer in four large gulps.

♦

At eight in the morning, the roses are in a water-filled beer can with its top cut off — Kaoru doesn't have a vase. It's a bit precarious and wouldn't survive an earthquake, so Kaoru resolves to stop by the 100-yen shop and get something vaselike. And then he'll get Mizuki some goddamn flowers, too.

Mizuki's still asleep, the top of his head messy beneath the thick duvet. Kaoru wants to see his face but doesn't want to wake him. They never got past the bedroom during the apartment tour last night.

 _I'm dating Mizuki now, I guess,_ he texts Shuuji.

Shuuji sends him a grinning monkey emoji. _Nice work. Does he know how long you've been pining like a middle-schooler?_

 _Shut up._ They didn't spend any time discussing their feelings, which suits Kaoru just fine, because he'd say something weird again. Mizuki's chosen to be here, and Kaoru's not gonna ask him for a reason.

Mizuki peeks out from under the duvet. "What's with the racket early in the morning?"

Crap. Kaoru's phone keyboard is sounded; he's too used to it and not used at all to sharing his bed. "Just talking to Shuuji." He tosses the phone back on the nightstand.

"Mmm."

"Mizuki."

"Indou."

"I want a handjob, but you gotta wear your gloves. You know the ones."

"Pervert."

"Is that a yes?"

"Take me someplace nice to eat, and I'll think about it."

Kaoru dives back into the duvet, where it's warm and smells like Mizuki. He doesn't know where the Brazilian steakhouse from his dream is, but he's going to find it and take Mizuki there.

And maybe one day, Mizuki will take him there too, just like in the dream.

♦end♦


End file.
